


Love is a Verb

by sweetiepie08



Series: Confidante [2]
Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: A spin off of my canon-verse fic Confidante, Childhood Friends, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Modern AU, You just have to write about them building ikea furniture and adopting cats, because sometimes when you put your characters through hell, confidante, for all 2 people who might be interested in reading this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiepie08/pseuds/sweetiepie08
Summary: Modern au. Spin-off of canon-verse fic, Confidante.Recent events have caused Clopin to take a short hiatus from his successful film analysis and vlogging channels on Youtube. He returns with a Q&A livestream co-hosted by channel-regular, his wife Noelle. The Q&A quickly develops into a stream of questions about their lives together. Lucky for the fans, this is a story Clopin is more than happy to tell.





	1. Clopin & Noelle's Welcome Back Livestream!!!

As Clopin finished setting up the live stream equipment, Noelle sat down on the couch beside him. She had her hair tied into a side ponytail and put on a little make-up. It was the most put-together she’d looked in weeks. Though she still looked comfortable in her loose-fitting jeans and navy, striped top, her outfit marked a transition period. Gone would be the days where she’d toss her hair up with one of those weird, spirally hair bobbles and throw on a random t-shirt, usually one from a fandom she liked that she would never buy for herself. Clopin loved surprising her with those. Soon she’d be back to work in her professional button-downs and tight hair buns. Aw well, it wasn’t as if evenings and weekends didn’t exist and he had to admit, he did love helping her take those off at the end of the day. _Besides, we can always have another._

“You look nice,” he commented, leaning back onto the couch.

“Well, it’s the first time we’ve been on camera for a while. I wanted to look presentable.”

Clopin let out an amused breath.

“What?”

He smirked. “I just remember when the last thing you wanted was to be on camera.”

“I was really stressed out then,” she admitted.

“You aren’t stressed now?”

She smiled and glanced up the stairs. “Not the same way.”

Clopin’s gaze followed hers and he rested his hand on her leg. Things certainly were different now, in the best ways possible. His eyes turned again to the time displayed in the corner of his laptop screen. “Okay, it’s time. You ready?”

“Sure.”

He leaned forward, hit a few buttons on his laptop, and the live stream began.

“Hey, we’re back!” he announced as he watched the viewers pour in. Messages of excitement and congratulations filled the chat box. He smiled. It was nice to know they’d been missed.

“So, for the people who didn’t know, Noelle and I took a little hiatus, but we’re back at it now. I’ll start vlogging regularly again next week and I’ll get a film analysis as often as I can manage. Those take a little more time and as you guys know, I’ve got bigger projects going on right. For now, we’re doing a welcome back Q&A to catch up and just sort of remind you guys we still exist.”

“We’ll have to keep it down, though,” Noelle added, “so no bongo playing contests or ‘who can jump the highest?’ We can have plenty of fun right here on the couch.”

Clopin smirked. “Fun on the couch is why we had to take the hiatus.”

“You don’t have to tell them that.

“Right, sorry.” He leaned in to the camera and cupped one hand beside his mouth. “It wasn’t on the couch.”

“Stop.” She tried to look indignant but laughter in her voice betrayed her.

“Don’t you think the fans want to know the whole story?”

“Then they can leave their questions in the chat,” Noelle argued. Comments started filling the chat box like machine gun fire. “I’m not answering that one though.”

The chat box lit up.

**Scientist_fox:** I want to hear the story!

**CelloPro:** Tell! Us! Tell! Us! Tell! Us!

**Pistachioprincess: **Oh! I’d love for this to turn into a love story live stream.

**Googlemaster**: I’d love to hear the whole tale. Congratulations btw. Hope you got enough rest.

“Okay, I guess we’re taking questions about our relationship,” Clopin said. He leaned in to read the chat box. “Let’s see. This looks like a good place to start. ‘Where did you two meet?’” He sat back and thought for a moment. “Hmm, you know what? I don’t think we ever formally introduced ourselves to each other. I guess maybe when we were babies our fathers held us up to each other said something like ‘Son, this is Noelle, your future wife.’”

“For those who don’t know, our fathers have been friends since they were in school,” Noelle clarified. “We happened to be born around the same time and played together a lot when we were kids.”

“And thus began an epic romance.”

[-]

“You ever been to a wedding?”

“No.”

They jumped in another puddle, sending the water flying up in the air. Clopin liked to watch as it fell back to earth and left a new pattern on the ground. It had rained that morning and the day was still gray, but their mothers decided to take them to the park anyway. He looked over to where they sat chatting on a bench, umbrellas resting close beside just in case.

Clopin jumped in a new puddle, giving his arms an extra swing. He liked his raincoat. It was blue and purple and it had the genie from Aladdin on it. It felt different from all his other clothes and made a swishy sound when it moved. His blue rain boots were also perfect for stomping in mud.

Noelle’s raincoat was blue too, but it was a lighter blue and had ladybugs all over it. She stomped her red boot in the water and watched it splash. “I have to wear a poofy dress,” she complained, “but Mama says I can change into a different dress for the party.”

“Oh.” He jumped again. “Why do you have to wear the poofy one?”

“Because I’m the flower girl.”

“What’s that?”

“I walk down the aisle in front of the bride and sprinkle flower petals in front of her.” She made another splash.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a wedding.”

“Oh.” He hopped three times forward through the puddle.

“Would you ever get married?”

He gave the question some thought. “Nah.”

“But you get cake.”

“What kind?”

“I think any kind you want.”

“Oh.” He climbed onto a low step and jumped into another puddle. “Maybe I will get married then. How about you?”

“Maybe.” Noelle switched from stomping in puddles to gliding her foot along the surface and watching the ripples trail behind. “I might if he gets me a giraffe.”

“I like dinosaurs better,” he answered.

“What kind of dinosaurs?”

He considered this. “I like Long Necks, like Little Foot.”

“I like Cera the best.”

“Yeah, Cera’s good. My favorite is Ducky, but I’d like a Long Neck because I could probably ride on one.”

“He’s a brontosaurus,” Noelle clarified. “I have a book about dinosaurs. They were really big so you could probably ride one.”

“Yeah I know and Cera is a triceratops,” Clopin said. “You could ride on those too.” His mind quickly switched gears and he pulled Noelle up onto the step. “Let’s jump off at the same time.”

“Okay.”

They stood on the step, hands clasped, toes eager to spring them over the edge. “Ready? One…two…”

A group of three older kids sped by on their bikes. They rode through the puddle, splashing the two children. Clopin laughed but Noelle didn’t look happy. She huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m tired of puddles,” she said, getting down from the step.

Clopin frowned. He felt bad that the splash made her upset and he wanted to make her happy again. Something red flew past his eyes. He abandoned the jumping plan and chased after it. It landed on a nearby wall and he could finally see what it was. A ladybug! “Noelle, look,” he said as she ran up behind him. He put his finger on the wall and let the ladybug climb on. “It’s just like the ones on your jacket.”

“Neat.” Noelle leaned down to get a closer look. “If you count the spots, you’ll know how old it is.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Clopin brought his finger up closer to his eyes. “One, two…”

The ladybug flew away and the kids chased after it. They followed it across the playground where it landed on the ground near the bike kids. Clopin was watching the ladybug, and not where he was going, when he crashed into one of the boys.

The boy looked down at Clopin and scowled. He was older and had a mean face. His friends peered at them from over their bike handles.

“Uh, what are you doing?” sneered the girl on the left. “This is a no-babies zone.”

“We’re not babies,” Clopin protested.

“Whatever, babies,” the boy on the right said. “Why don’t you go play in the sandbox or something?”

“Uh, because it’s too wet,” Noelle snapped back.

“We were playing with the ladybug.” He pointed at their new bug friend.

The mean-faced boy in the middle smirked. Clopin didn’t like the look of it. “Oh, this ladybug?” He raised his foot.

“Stop!” Noelle screeched, pushing him. “That’s nature! You can’t smash nature!”

The boy pushed her back. “I can’t?” He stomped his foot down hard on the poor, little ladybug. “Looks like I just did.” He started scraping the bug’s guts on the pavement.

Noelle’s mouth fell open. Her face turned red and her eyes filled with tears. She turned away so the big kids wouldn’t see.

“Aw look, she’s gonna cry now,” The boy said.

The girl snickered. “Told you they were babies.”

“Go on and cry, baby” the mean-faced boy teased. “Cry, baby, cry.”

Clopin looked at the bug’s splattered remains, Noelle trying not to cry, and the mean kids teasing her. His hands balled into fists and his face felt hot. Something inside him snapped. He ran at the mean-faced boy. “Stop it!” he screamed, pushing the boy as hard as he could. “Say sorry.”

The boy stumbled back a few steps. His face screwed up with anger. “Make me!” The boy pushed Clopin back and he fell hard on the ground. His whole side hurt where he landed. He wanted to get up and hit the boy back, but Noelle reacted first.

She gasped then turned back to the bullies, skin still red, tears still in her eyes, but her face was twisted up with fury. “You’re not nice!” Her leg drew back and she kicked the mean-faced boy in the stomach. The boy clutched his gut and doubled over.

Before anything else could happen, Clopin found himself scooped up in his mother’s arms. Behind him he could see Noelle being dragged away by her own mother. “They started it!” Noelle cried as their mothers took them back to the bench. “They killed a ladybug and pushed Clopin down.”

“And they teased Noelle and made her cry,” Clopin added.

Noelle furiously wiped her eyes. “I didn’t cry.”

“It’s okay, we saw,” Mama said in her gentlest voice. She sat down on the bench and hugged Clopin to her chest. “Are you hurt, baby?”

“I’m mad.”

“I know, and I’m proud of you for standing up for your friend.” Mama kissed him on the forehead. “But I need you to stay out of trouble.”

“They started it,” Noelle repeated, now sulking in her mother’s lap.

Noelle’s mother sighed and rubbed her daughter’s back. “Maybe we’ve had enough park for the day.”

“No!” Noelle whined. “I don’t want to be done.”

“I wanna keep playing,” Clopin jumped in.

Their mother’s shared a look. “Why don’t you bring Clopin over for the afternoon,” Noelle’s mother suggested. “They can dry off and warm up with some tea…”

“I don’t know,” Mama answered. “I left Adrien home with the baby and Gael is at a friend’s house today…”

“Please, Mama…” he begged, clutching the front of her jacket. “Please, please, please…”

“I can watch him for the afternoon if you need to get things done.”

“Well, if it isn’t too much trouble…”

Clopin and Noelle smiled at each other. They knew their mothers’ permission was only a second away.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Noelle’s mother answered. “We’re happy to have him.”

“Alright, then. I’ll pick him up before dinner.” Mama smiled down at him. “Sound good, Love?”

He threw his arms around her, his delight warming him like sunshine. “Yes, Mama! Thank you!”

Noelle wriggled out of her mother’s arms and his mother set him down beside her. “You be good for Joanna,” Mama said, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“I will, Mama.” He said goodbye and grabbed Noelle’s hand. Together they ran off down the street. They day was still young, and there was still plenty of fun to be had.

[-]

“Wait, I think I have a picture from that day,” Clopin said, getting up from the couch. He took a scrapbook from the bookshelf and brought it back over.

One of their cats had already taken his spot. Cuivre, their orange tabby, took any chance he could to muscle in next to his mama. Taika, their gray shorthair, was probably off somewhere doing the cat-version of brooding. Noelle plucked Cuivre off the cushion and let him down on her other side. She scratched behind his ears and made cooing noises at his while Clopin took his seat again.

“My mother made this for us for our wedding,” he explained, holding the book up to the camera.

He turned through the pages filled with pictures of them in their youngest years. There was one of them sitting beside each other in baby swings, one of them playing together at the beach, one from their first day of preschool… Strange to think their parents may have more memories of them together than they did themselves. Finally, he found the one he was looking for.

“Noelle put her hand on his shoulder and rested her chin on top of it. “That the one?”

The photograph showed them fast asleep together on a couch. Their limbs were tangled awkwardly. Noelle’s hand was in his face. Clopin’s leg was had flopped across her torso. Their hair was a mess and they were drooling… And yet, they looked perfectly comfortable.

“Here we are,” Clopin said, turning the book toward the camera.

The chatbox filled with cooing over the two kids and more and more requests started to pop up.

**Green_goblin2286:** Tell us more

**Wordyresponsezzz:** I’d like to hear about the time you adopted your cats.

**Freerangegrass:** Any stories about grass?

**Shaniac2.0:** Pics from Clopin’s goth phase please!

Their enthusiasm warmed him. The fans of his vlog channel knew this was a topic he could go on and on about, but he hadn’t expected him film analysis fans to be interested too. Though, he should have guessed. “Clopin loves his wife to an absurd degree” had become a bit of a running joke across his platform.

He turned to Noelle and gazed at her serene smile as she ran her hand across Cuvire’s fur. The heart-eye emojis flooding into the chat didn’t escape his attention. “You want to keep going with this topic?” he asked her.

“Sure,” she answered, scratching Cuvire under his chin. “It’d be nice to talk about, especially after everything that’s happened lately.”

Clopin’s grin grew even wider and he turned back to the chat log, eager to answer the next question. This was a story he was always happy to tell.


	2. The First Date

“Let’s see here,” Clopin said, leaning into the computer to read the chat. “What other questions do we have?”

**Blissfulvolcano:** Do you have matching phone cases?

“Nope,” Noelle answered. “Mine’s a pink marble pattern.”

“And mine has the moon face from La Voyage des la Lune,” Clopin said, holding up his phone. “What else have we got?”

**Blissfulvolcano:** Do you have anything else matching?

“We have matching t-shirts that say “Daenerys is still my queen” on them,” Clopin answered.

Noelle turned to him with an eyebrow cocked. “We do?”

“I ordered them. They’re in the mail.”

“Okay then.”

**Milk&Cookies:** Clopin, I love your work, but my favorite is still your first mini-series, _Désapprendre_. I was wondering why you called it that.

“Okay, so _Désapprendre _is, at it’s heart, about the transition between childhood and adolescence,” Clopin explained. “The title comes from something I observed, which is that growing up involves a lot of unlearning. Things that were true when you were a little kid are no longer true and it happens fast at that age. It’s suddenly okay to do some things and not okay to do others, at least not if you want to be cool. The age difference between 11 and 12 doesn’t seem like a lot to an adult, but at the time it felt like a whole new world. You’ve got new expectations, you’re feeling new, weird feelings… It’s a hellish time where everything’s changing and it feels like everyone else got a new copy of the rule book but you. And if you don’t learn these new rules and fast, you’ll be left behind. Anyway, that’s why I called it _Désapprendre_.”

When he finished, he looked over at Noelle. Her expression matched the heart-eyes emojis that began filling the chat and he felt himself blush.

**Problemburger: **I loved that show! It felt so painfully like being in Cinquième, it hurt! But it was still hilarious!

**Universaleye:** My favorite was the finale. Leon’s first date with the Red Headed Girl was so cute!

**TigerJames:** I love how he spends the whole series trying to hide the fact that he didn’t catch her name because he was too busy daydreaming. Me!

**StrangeCapers:** But when he finally asks her in the end! I die!

**JugglingManiac:** Ya’ll better put some respect on that name. It’s Valentine.

**RoseIvory:** You’ve said before that you’ve pulled things from your real life for that show. Anything from your first date with Noelle make it into the finale?

Clopin laughed. “Well I definitely knew her name, so that wasn’t a concern. I did draw from the overall awkwardness and overthinking I did during the date.” He put his hand on Noelle’s. “It turned out alright in the end though.”

“Plus there was that soda thing,” Noelle added with a mischievous smirk.

Clopin looked down and smiled sheepishly. “Oh yeah, the soda thing.”  
[-]

Clopin wiped his sweaty palms on his pants again and looked at the clock. 6:05. Was it too early? It probably was, right? But what if he waited too long? What if she got in the shower or started her homework as soon as she got home? Then she wouldn’t be able to answer and he’d have to wait even longer. He could chicken out in that amount of time.

He picked up the phone and dialed. It couldn’t hurt to check.

“Allô?” a voice answered. It was her brother again.

“It’s Clopin. Is Noelle-”

Pascal sighed. “I told you, her ballet lesson is over at 6:00.”

“Yeah but now it’s after 6 and I was just checking.”

“Why do you need to talk to my sister so bad?” Pascal asked. “I can take a message if it’s that important.”

A message? That’d be the day. Yeah, he’d ask her out through her brother and then he could promptly die of embarrassment. “No, I just want to talk to her.”

“About what?”

“Just…stuff, okay?”

“Fine,” Pascal groaned. “She’ll be home around 6:30. I’ll tell her you called.”

Pascal hung up and Clopin checked the clock again to see hoe much longer he had. 6:07? Are you kidding me? He picked up a comic to try to pass the time, but he couldn’t focus his mind. The adventures of Valerian and Lauraline were just shapes and colors to his eyes.

Though he did notice Laureline was a red head just like Noelle. He wondered what it’d be like to go on a space adventure with her. Maybe they’d rescue a kidnapped scientist from evil aliens who were forcing him to build a death ray. He and Noelle would bust in, save the scientist, and barely escape after an epic battle. As they flew away on their ship, both still excited from their mission, he’d take her in his arms and…

The door burst open, causing Clopin to jump. “Mom said you had the cordless,” his brother, Gael said as he entered. “Why’d you jump so high?”

“Nothing,” Clopin snapped. “What do you want?”

“The cordless…” Gael said, looking pointedly down at the phone on the bed.

Clopin jumped on it. “No! I need it!”

“You’re not even using it.”

“I’m going to use it soon.”

Gael rolled his eyes. “Come on, stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Clopin snapped. “Why don’t you use your cell phone?”

“I’m out of minutes. Now get off it.”

Gael managed to wiggle his arm under Clopin’s chin and grab ahold of the phone. Clopin really didn’t want to resort to his next move. It was juvenile and childish, exactly what he didn’t want to be tonight, but these were desperate times. Clopin stuck out his tongue and left a big, wet lick on his brother’s arm.

“Ugh, gross,” Gael shouted, pulling his hand away. “Fine, freak, it’s all yours. Just give it to me after you’re done.”

Gael stormed out of the room and the phone rang shortly after. Clopin checked the caller ID. It was Noelle. _Okay, be cool. Be cool. _“Allô?”

“Hi, it’s me,” Noelle said. “My brother said you were trying to call me.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to...” _Now what? Do I jump right into it? Better wait._ “Um… how’s it going?”

“Fine…”

“Right, um…” _Should I ask now? No, just ease into it. Finesse, boy._ “So I was thinking we hadn’t seen each other in a while.”

“What are you talking about? I saw you in school today.”

“Yeah but I was thinking we should see each other more…”

“More? What’s going on? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird I just…” He sighed. _Better cut to the chase._ “You want to go to the cinema with me Saturday?”

“Yeah, why’d you have to get all weird about it though?”

“Because I don’t want to go with you as just friends, like normal, you know? I was hoping it’d be more like a…” he trailed off.

There was a pause on the other end. “You mean like a date?”

“Aw, so cute!” A third voice cut in.

“They grow up so fast don’t they?!” Another answered.

“Pascal!”

“Gael!”

“GET OFF THE PHONE!”

Clopin burst out of his room and ran to the kitchen where he found his mother washing dishes. His brother thundered down the stairs behind him. “Mama! Gael is listening in on my phone calls again!”

“Gael, give your brother his privacy,” his mother said, without so much as a pause in her work.

“What?” Gael laughed with a mocking grin. “He’s only talking to his girlfriend.”

His mother gasped and dropped a dish in the soapy water. “Girlfriend?”

“It’s not my girlfriend. It’s Noelle,” Clopin argued.”

“Oh yeah, why’d you ask her on a date?”

Clopin took a swat at Gael who only laughed as he dodged it.

“You asked her on a date?” His mother asked, her smile growing.

“Mama, please don’t make a big deal out of it,” Clopin whined.

“Of course not, Love. What did she say?”

“She didn’t answer yet.”

“She said yes,” Gael corrected.

“Gael!” Clopin tried to hit him again.

A stern look from their mother halted their argument. “Clopin, give me the phone.” She held out her hand and Clopin reluctantly gave it to her. “Noelle? Sweetie, give the phone to one of your parents please.” She waited as the phone in the other house changed hands. “Joanna, did you hear? I know, it’s so cute.”

“It’s not cute Mama,” Clopin cried, flopping himself on the stairs. _Kill me now. _

His mother shushed him and went back to her phone conversation. “Yes, I can take them. Clopin, where are you and Noelle going on your date?”

“Cinema…” he grumbled into the carpet.

“Alright, so I’ll pick her up at your house and take them. Oh, we should get pictures.”

“Please, Mama, no pictures!” _God, I’m ready to go to hell now. Just send me there. I don’t even care. _He waited patiently to be dragged into the fiery depths of the underworld. Unfortunately, he remained in his home with his mother gushing on the phone about his date; a date which he hadn’t even finished planning. “Mama, can you please let me talk to Noelle?”

“Oh right.” She said goodbye to Noelle’s mother and handed him the phone. “You finish planning your date.”

He thanked her, ran back to his room, and closed the door. “Noelle?”

“Yes.”

“So…”

“Yeah…”

“Too bad Y2k didn’t kill us all, huh?” he joked.

Noelle laughed and he felt that strange tickle in his heart again.

“So, _Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain _looks good,” Noelle suggested.

“I thought so too. That what you want to see?”

“Sure. 7:00 showing?”’

“Yeah that should be fine.” He smiled. It was done. He had a date with Noelle. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll see you at school,” she corrected.

“Right, anyway, bye.”

He flopped on the bed, beaming. _I have a date. I have a date._ It wasn’t just any date. It was a date with Noelle. His heart danced in his chest. He felt like he was riding a roller coaster, but in a good way. He didn't feel the fear. He felt the excitement, the rush, that moment of euphoria when the ride makes you rise from your seat. It felt amazing. He had no idea it could feel like that.

[-]

A low-grade churning in the pit of his stomach stuck with him through the next 3 days. Even when he saw Noelle at school, this feeling didn’t go away. Things were odd now. He was thinking entirely too much. There were so many questions. Should he mention the date? Could he tell his other friends about it? Did she want other people to know? Could he still talk to her about the same things? Can you talk about comics and movies with someone you’re dating? Or was that just friend talk? Were they even dating yet? Would they be dating after Saturday? It was all too much.

He never questioned their relationship before, at least not until recently, not until he began noticing strange new feelings. It started small. One day, while eating lunch in the school courtyard, he made her laugh. It was nothing unusual. He’d made her laugh before. But this time, when she tossed back her long, red hair and crinkled up her face, he noticed she was pretty. He felt proud of putting that smile on her face. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss her. And that thought slapped him in the face.

The concept of a crush wasn’t foreign. He’d had crushes in the past. There was that girl in history class and that boy in science. He’d even had crushes on a few of his brother’s friends. This was different, though. This was Noelle. He wasn’t just attracted to her. He liked being around her. She was someone he wanted to spend time with, someone he could tell his secrets to, someone he could trust. The more he thought about kissing her, and holding her, and being her boyfriend, the more he liked the idea. And the more he liked it, the more he wanted to make it a reality. And the more he wanted it, the more afraid he was of messing everything up.

The day came and, if anything, the churning got worse. At the very least his family was supportive. Gael even helped Clopin pick out a cool outfit. His father also convinced his mother not to take pictures, which he was extremely thankful for. As per the previous agreement between parents, his mother picked up Noelle and took them both to the theater. The whole ride, Clopin felt too awkward to say anything to her. This wasn’t just any car ride. This was a date. It felt too weird to say anything in front of his mother.

He did spend entirely too much time looking at her outfit, though. She kept her hair down and pinned up one side with a butterfly clip. She wore a white blouse with a denim skirt and pink lip gloss. A skirt and lip gloss? Was it his imagination, or did she put more effort into her appearance than usual. Sure, a skirt was part of the school uniform, but when they hung out, she usually wore jeans. And the lip gloss… Why the lip gloss? Was it just to look nice or was she expecting something?

His mother dropped them off in front of the theater. Noelle thanked her for the ride and got out. He hung back for a few minutes to say goodbye and listen to her gush about how her “little boy was growing up.” By the time she finally drove away. Noelle had already gotten their tickets.

“Here’s yours,” she said, handing him the ticket.

“Oh, uh, I thought I was going to pay for that.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “But you paid last time we went to the cinema. It was my turn.”

“Yeah, but this is a date. I thought it was kind of like a reset-button type thing.”

“Oh well… maybe you can pay next time,” she tried.

His heart skipped a beat. Next time? She was already planning a next time? Was the date going that well or did she just like him that much? _Of course she likes me. She’s my best friend._ That was true, but did she still just like him as a friend or…

“What if I pay for snacks?” he suggested. They usually each paid for their own, so he figured this would at least be different from any other time.

“Alright, I guess that’d be okay.”

That part at least went off without a hitch. They got their snacks and drinks and the cashier took his money without any awkward questioning about who was paying. However, as soon as they walked away from the snack counter, disaster struck.

Clopin took a step forward. He wasn’t sure what he tripped on. Loose carpet? His own feet? The cruel, unforgiving forces of fate? Whatever it was, it sent him flying forward. He caught himself, but his hand squeezed his cup. The lid popped off, a tsunami of coke took to the air, and it made landfall all over the front of Noelle’s blouse.

Noelle’s mouth fell open. Shocked theatergoers stared. Clopin froze completely. His mind went blank save for his wish that the earth open up and swallow him whole. The teenage cashier behind the counter gave him a look of horrified pity, handed him a stack of napkins, and offered him a free refill.

He smushed the napkins at Noelle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered along with other apologetic gibberish. He was at a loss as to what to do. Should he help her dab? Or was that inappropriate since she started getting… _Oh God, did I really just think that? Am I a pervert? What is wrong with me?_

He felt a sting behind his eyes. Tears? Now? Seriously? He’d wish to be dragged straight to hell if he weren’t so sure he was there already.

“Clopin,” Noelle said, her calm voice snapping him out of his panic. “Just wait for me outside the bathroom, okay?”

He could only nod in reply.

“You can leave your stuff here while you get cleaned up, Hon,” the cashier offered.

Noelle put her snacks down, gave Clopin a small, half-smile and walked away.

Waiting for her felt like an eternity. He kept replaying the spill over and over in his head. All he wanted was for this night to go smoothly. He liked her a lot and he didn’t want to ruin it. But why was he so worried about it? Any other night, they’d have laughed at the spill. Now it felt like the world was ending. Did it have to be this way? Couldn’t they just relax like they used to? Couldn’t they do the things they did when they were friends and date at the same time?

Noelle stepped out of the bathroom. She still had an obvious coke stain on her blouse but at least she looked a little dryer.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Clopin, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” he answered, looking at the floor. “I really like you. I mean, I always liked you, but as a friend. Lately, though, I liked you… differently… I just think you’re really cool and smart and…” he felt himself blush, “pretty… And I really, really didn’t want to mess it all up.”

Noelle smiled and shook her head. “But you didn’t mess it all up. I really like you too. You’re funny and sweet and you’re, like, the coolest guy in school and you don’t even try…” She tucked her hair behind her ear and her face started turning pink. “I was actually hoping to kiss you tonight.”

“Kiss me?” His heart pounded in his chest. Was this happening? Was this a dream? “Yeah, go for it.”

She took his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed him. A firework went off in his chest. A voice in his head screamed, _she’s kissing me! I’m kissing Noelle!_ She was the coolest girl he’d ever know, and she liked him back. To his 12-year-old mind, this was the greatest revelation he could have.

When the kiss ended, she took a step back, looked at his face and giggled.

“What?”

“You have lip gloss on your face now.”

“Oh…” He wiped it off with the back of his hand. “I liked it, though.”

Her face turned from pink to red. “I liked it too.” They went quiet for a second, both still waiting for their beating hearts to slow. Noelle looked up and grabbed Clopin’s hand. He felt another spark of electricity. “Now come on,” she said, pulling him along with her. “Let’s go get your free drink.” 


	3. Teen Drama (Pt. 1)

**Babypoison: **Noelle, I am forever grateful for the time you actually used your public Instagram to post that #tbt of Goth Clopin.

**Skatestupid:** Yes! You know when Noelle comes out of hiding, you’re about to get something great! Tell us about more pope corpse trials!

Clopin watched as his wife’s eyes lit up. She loved nothing better than to tell strange, morbid stories from history and it was a treat every time.

Noelle smiled and laughed. “Well, unfortunately for us, and I guess fortunately for the Catholic Church, there was only one pope corpse trial. The Cadaver Synod was a one-time event. There are no other known instances of a pope having the previous pope dug up and put on trial. There are, however, plenty of other ridiculous pope stories. For example, after Pope Nicholas IV died in 1292, the cardinals fought for two years over who should be the next pope. So, a hermit monk wrote them a letter calling them out on their nonsense and they elected _him_ pope. He then became Pope Celestine V. Mind you, he didn’t actually want to be pope. He just wanted them to pick _someone. _Understandably, he was also the pope who decreed that popes be allowed to resign and promptly resigned.”

“Didn’t you once say there was a pope who was beaten up by a French king?” Clopin asked, still snickering. There was just something about funny pope stories.

“Ah yes, Pope Boniface VIII,” she said, grinning gleefully clasping her hands together. “He and French King Phillip IV fought for years for reasons too complicated to get into right now. It eventually escalated to the point where Boniface ordered the excommunication of Philip. So, the king sent a group of thugs to his house to demand he resign. When Boniface said he’d “sooner die,” the leader, Sciarra Colonna, slapped him across the face. They then tortured him for three days and nearly executed him, but they eventually let him go. He died a few weeks later.”

“So the moral of this delightful story?” Clopin smirked with an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Um… someone once had the gall to put a hit out on the pope?”

“Sound’s good to me,” he quipped. “Next question.”

**Poppyfish:** You know what ridiculous history story I want to hear? What you and Clopin were like in lycée.

**Wistfulthinking:** Yes! Please! Tell us all about it!

Noelle and Clopin flashed each other the knowing grins of two people who have seen each other’s cringiest moments. They could easily roast each other for days using stories from their teenage years alone. Yet, there was one story that stuck out in Noelle’s mind.

“So, Clopin has this annoying thing about him where he’s popular without even trying,” she began.

Clopin nodded, a hint of pride on his face. “And Noelle was a very intense overachiever.”

“And our relationship didn’t always make sense to a lot of people.”

“Stupid people.”

“Clopin…”

“It’s true.”

[-]

Noelle stood off to the side and watched the party going on around her. It was American themed. Kids walked around in their red-white-and-blue get-ups and drank out of big, plastic cups. The furniture in the living room had been pushed back to create a dance floor. American pop music blared from the speakers as her classmates gyrated to the music. She might be persuaded to join them if Clopin was around but, as usual, something caught his attention and he wandered off. 

She had to admit, she envied the ease with which he moved through crowds. Practically everyone liked him. It did matter what clique or cliché they fell into. Two completely different people could at least agree Clopin was a great guy. He was possibly the most popular student in school. The fact that he didn’t even notice this made him even more popular.

As for Noelle, she relied a bit too much on Clopin for her social life. Sure, she had friends of her own in the honor student crowd, but Clopin was the one who got her to put the books down for a minute and go out. At big, raucous parties like this, he usually had more fun than she did. They weren’t really her thing, but they were Clopin’s. Leave him alone at a party where he didn’t know anyone, and he’d have at least three new friends by the end of the night. There’s no way he’d end up in a corner, hoping no one would notice him.

Arms wrapped around her and a beer-scented kiss landed on her cheek. “Having fun?” Clopin asked, squeezing her tight.

“Not particularly…” she answered with an uneasy smile.

“What?” He took a step back. She could see the twinkle of tipsiness in his eye. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “Just not in the mood I guess.”

“Oh, we can fix that.” He took the star-spangled baseball cap off of his own head and placed it on hers. “Better?”

“It’s great, thanks,” she said, her smile turning genuine. His little, sweet gestures never failed to make her feel warm inside. Besides, she supposed he wouldn’t need it. The I <3 New York t-shirt he wore kept him on theme.

He analyzed her face. “Still no fun, though?”

He also never failed to see through her. “I just don’t have anyone to talk to when you wander off,” she admitted.

“What?” he gestured out to the crowded dance floor. “Look. There’s plenty of people.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Tell you what?” He took a quick drink out of his red cup. “I’m gonna finish my beer and then you and I are going to dance the night away. Sound good?”

She left a kiss on his lips. “Sound’s great.”

“Hey, Clopin!” A boy shouted from the staircase. “You pierced your own ear, right?”

Clopin’s eyes shifted from Noelle to the stairs. “Uhh…”

“Go,” Noelle insisted. “It sounds like you’re needed.”

“I’ll be back for you, my love.” He kissed her hand and started upstairs, explaining the finer points of household ear-piercing to two-much-more-drunk classmates. It was better this way. Clopin was still sober enough to supervise and she didn’t want to be at a party where one of the guests went home with tetanus. He’d be back soon enough. He may have a tendency to wander, but he’d never leave her behind.

Ah well, she could at least get a snack while she waited. She ventured into the kitchen, hoping to find some half-decent food, when her own name caught her ear.

She stopped at the door to listen. Brice, their gracious host, presided over a group of the self-designated popular students. “Can you believe he brought her again?” One of the girls, Jenette, said.

“Why does he bother?” another girl, Claudine, chimed in. “He’s the only one who likes her.”

“I don’t know why they’re together anyway. She’s such a bitch.”

“Clopin’s weird,” Brice said, taking a drink from his cup, “always has been.”

“Yeah but at least he’s fun,” said Jules, Brice’s obnoxious right-hand man. “You think it might be some weird fetish thing?”

Noelle felt her face go red.

“Maybe she gives good head,” Brice laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying.”

Noelle’s blood boiled and she turned to leave before she could rip Brice’s smug little head off. She didn’t have to stand there and listen to them demean her like that. She was going to grab Clopin, get on the dancefloor, and have a good time just to spite these assholes.

“You know she’s running for student council president?”

She stopped at the door.

“Fuck, seriously?” Brice groaned. “Who’s running against her?”

“No one yet.”

“Damn,” said Jules. “Someone should. Doesn’t matter who. She’d get smoked by anyone.”

“Fine then, I’ll run,” Brice said.

She wanted to punch him in his smug grin.

“Seriously?”

“Please say you will.”

“Yeah, why not? I’d love to take that bitch down a peg.”

They all laughed and she felt like her blood was burning her from the inside. How dare they? All of them. Did Brice even know what it took to be president? He never even served on student council before. Of course that lazy asshole didn’t care about the responsibilities or speaking up for the students. All he wanted was to humiliate her.

She turned and stormed away while another burst of laughter rang from the kitchen. Pushing through the crowd of drunk teenagers, she made her way upstairs.

“No, not with that,” she heard Clopin say from behind a door. “Use that and it’ll be a hack job.”

She knocked on the door. “Clopin?”

“One moment,” he said to his friends before opening the door. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” He stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I want to leave.”

His face suddenly shifted from tipsy amusement to concern. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

She noticed a few people watching them. She couldn’t tell him here. It’d be all over the school by Monday. “I’m just not in the mood all of a sudden.”

“Why? What happened?” He looked so worried it made her heart ache.

She should tell him. He knew she was upset. She couldn’t keep this from him. But she couldn’t do it here. He’d had a bit to drink. If she told him in this state, he’d immediately dash off to defend her honor. The last thing she wanted was a scene, especially one that might end in Clopin nursing a broken nose.

“I’m just not feeling well, alright? Can we go now, please?”

His eyes lingered on her for a bit. “Yeah, okay, just let me say goodbye first.” He poked his head through the door. “Sorry boys, you’re on your own.”

A chorus of “Aw, come on,” rose from the bathroom.

“It’s for the best. Seeing what you’ve got to work with, I recommend waiting until you’re sober and going to a professional.”

With that, he took her hand and they started out, but she could still feel eyes on them. Were people going to talk about this after they left? _There she goes, that cold-hearted bitch dragging him away from the fun again_. The logical part of her brain told her she was being dramatic. Surely people had more important things to talk about than her relationship. And yet she’d just walked in on people doing exactly that.

[-]

On Monday, Brice announced he was running to student council president and everyone was already buzzing about it. The official campaign had scarcely begun and it was all anyone could talk about. Brice Choffard, who had contributed nothing to the school except for saved goals and free booze, could be their next president. He was popular and the only reasons he was popular were the aforementioned goals and booze. Did he know anything about school policy? Or have a plan for next year? No, but he threw the best parties and invited the most influential people which guaranteed him votes. Democracy at its finest.

After the final classes let out, Noelle roamed the halls of the school with her cousin, Faye, hanging posters for the student food drive.

“I really don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Faye said, handing Noelle another poster from the stack she carried. “No one in their right mind would actually vote for him.”

“You have more faith in humanity than I do,” Noelle answered, taping the poster to the wall. “I certainly heard enough people gabbing about it.”

Faye smiled and rolled her eyes as they continued down the hall. “He just announced he was running today. People are just excited for some fresh news.”

“He’s still the most popular dumbass in school.”

“So what? You’ve been on the council since seconde. Everyone knows…”

“That I’m a bitch,” Noelle finished, slapping up another poster.

Faye reached up and put a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “Not everyone thinks you’re a bitch.”

Noelle let a tiny half-smile tug on her lips. It was true. Not _everyone_ thought she was a bitch. But even while her cousin tried to comfort her, her reputation couldn’t be denied. “Let’s face it,” she said, leaning against the wall. “I got my position that year because I ran unopposed. After that, I was just the most recognizable name on the ballot. Brice is someone people actually like. Take popularity out of it, and it’s still a numbers game in his favor. He’s on the football team, so he’ll get their vote. They hang out with the other athletics teams, so he gets their vote as well. Add in all the students who will vote for him because they’re fans, and where does that leave me?”

“Humanitarian Club is behind you,” Faye tried with an encouraging smile, but it was obvious from her expression she saw Noelle’s point.

Noelle let out an amused breath as she thought about the dozen or so students in their club. “I appreciate it, but I think I’ll need more than that.”

“What about the drama department?” Faye suggested. “I bet Clopin would…”

“I don’t want people to vote for me because of who I’m dating,” Noelle cut in.

“It’s still a vote,” Faye argued. “You can’t be too picky about why they voted for you. By graduation, no one will even remember the election. They won’t remember if they voted because Clopin convinced them or they liked your ideas. They’ll just be glad you were our president.”

Faye had a point. If Noelle wanted to be president, she had to get the votes first, and a vote was a vote regardless of the reason. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to play the popularity game, just a bit. “You know what?” she said, a sly smile forming on her face. “You may be on to something.”

[-]

That Saturday, Noelle rang Clopin’s doorbell bright and early. His mother answered. “Oh, good morning Noelle,” she said. “Did you and Clopin have plans today?”

“No, but I have a surprise for him.”

“That’s sweet,” Talia said, letting her in, “but I think he’s still asleep.”

“That’s alright, I’ll wake him.” Noelle thanked her and started up the stairs.

On her way to Clopin’s room, she ran into his little sister, Roseline. “Hi Noelle,” Roseline said, watching from her bedroom door. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I’ve got a surprise for your brother.”

The girl glanced at his door and rolled her eyes. “I think he’s still asleep.”

“Yeah, I know. Want to help me wake him?”

Roseline’s mischievous grin matched her brother’s. Noelle put her finger to her lips and they silently opened the door. Clopin lay asleep in his bed, face smushed into his pillow. Noelle pointed at the bed and mouthed, “jump.”

Roseline nodded. “Wake up!” she yelled as she leapt onto the bed. She made impact on the mattress and Clopin groaned into his pillow.

“Rosie…” he grumbled. “What the f-” 

“Noelle’s here!” she chimed, giggling.

“She waiting downstairs?”

Roseline laughed harder. “No…”

“Rise and shine, Love,” Noelle said, leaning against the doorframe.

Clopin’s eyes snapped open and he sat straight up. “Noelle, did we have plans?”

“I have a surprise for you, but you can brush your teeth first,” she said with a smirk. “Thanks for the help, Rosie.”

“You’re welcome,” Rosie said as she scampered out of the room.

When his little sister left, Clopin and Noelle turned their attention back toward each other. “While getting to see you is a lovely surprise all on its own,” Clopin said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’d like to take you up on your tooth-brushing offer.” He grabbed a set of clothes and walked off to the bathroom.

When he returned, Noelle was sitting on his bed with two tickets in her hand. “Do you know what these are?” she asked, holding them out to him.

“Are these…” he took one and read it. “The Independent Film Festival! How did you get these? They sold out in the first few hours.”

“The internet is a marvelous place, Love,” she said with a smirk, “especially when you get up early enough to buy them the second the go on sale.”

“This is so great! Thank you so much!” He practically threw himself at her and started planting kisses on her cheek.

“Not so fast…” Noelle teased, lifting his chin.

“What do you mean? Those are for me, aren’t they?”

“Maybe…”

“What do you mean, maybe?” he huffed, eyes flickering between her and the tickets.

Noelle sighed and got up. Well, she knew they’d reach this point eventually. “That meathead Brice is running for student council president.”’

“And?” Clopin asked, reclining back on the bed.

“And he’s captain of the football team, he throws big parties every other weekend, and he’s incredibly good looking.”

Clopin pouted and grumbled, “He’s not _that_ good looking…”

“Not the point! He’s every cliché from American television and he’s running against me.”

“So what?”

“So what?” She dug her fingers into her hair. Did he really not get it? “He doesn’t care about representing the student body or organizing events. It’s just another popularity contest for him and I’ll be damned if I let that lazy bastard coast his way into something I’ve worked hard for.”

“What does any of this have to do with festival tickets?”

“I’m bribing you, asshole!”

“Ooh…” He nodded slowly. “Bribing me to what?”

“Run with me,” she answered, “as my vice president.”

“Why me?”

“You’re popular.”

“I am?” For some reason, he looked genuinely surprised.

“Yes,” she said, exasperated. “You get invited to Brice’s parties, don’t you?”

“Yeah, so do you.”

Amazing. He really didn’t get it. “No, you bring me. There’s a difference. And then you wander off and I have to listen to people complain that you brought me again.”

His face fell into disbelief and disgust. “When did this happen? Who does this?”

“Brice’s party last weekend was the most recent time” She sat down on the bed beside him and hugged her arms to herself. “It was just Brice and his friends…I heard them talking. It’s how I found out Brice was running. They wanted to take me down a peg.”

“Oh, oh that’s rich,” Clopin scoffed, becoming animated in his indignation. “_Brice_ thinks someone needs taken down a peg.” He reached up and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Is this why you wanted to leave all of a sudden? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to make a scene over me. I just…” She looked over and his sweet, concerned face made her heart melt. “I guess I was embarrassed. I know I shouldn’t care what they have to say.”

“People were being assholes to you,” he said, gripping both her shoulders now. “Anyone would care. I care.”

He was absolutely right. It might not always show, but underneath his theatrics and humor, he held a practical sort of wisdom. “Thank you,” she said, leaving a kiss on his lips. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

He smiled again, warmth and love emanating from his brown eyes. “And I’ll do it. You don’t need to bribe me with tickets. The threat of Brice as our student body representation is incentive enough.”

“I know don’t need a bribe,” she admitted, suddenly embarrassed by the tickets in her hand. “I just know you’re not interested in student government and I wanted to give you something to show you I appreciate it. This was the wrong way to go about this. I should have…”

“I never said I was ungrateful,” he said, taking the tickets from her hand with a sly smile. “Though, I’ll admit, your PR could use a little work. Good thing you’ll have me to guide you from here on out.”


	4. Teen Drama (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Character experiences Biphobia

Noelle and Clopin sat at a campaigning table in the cafeteria, talking with their fellow students. Clopin was technically participating. Although he was talking to his drama club friends and it didn't sound like campaigning. Every now and then, Noelle would be interrupted by a burst of laughter from Clopin’s side. “Anyway,” Noelle said, turning back to her classmate, Valerie, after another such interruption, “I'd be happy to work with the Pride Club.”

“That's great to hear,” Valerie said. “We'd like to see more inclusion at school social events like formal.”

“Yes, it's very important to me that all our students feel welcome at school events. Formal should be a fun time for everyone.”

Another burst of laughter came from Clopin’s group of friends. Valerie gave them an uncomfortable glance. Noelle kicked Clopin’s foot under the table. “So, anything else I can help you with?”

“I think that's all for now. See you in class.” Valerie walked away, eyeing Clopin’s friends as she left.

Noelle nudged him again. When he looked at her, she shot him a glare.

“What?” he asked.

“That was Valerie from Pride Club,” she scolded.

“Yeah, I know Val,” he said with a shrug. “What about her?”

“You’re in Pride Club.”

“So?”

“So you should have been more attentive when she was trying to talk to us.” Noelle rubbed the bridge of her nose. Normally, Clopin was so clever. How could someone so clever be so slow on the uptake. “Instead, you were busy laughing with your friends. What if she thinks you were laughing at her?”

Clopin hand-waved this as well. “No, no, no. We were laughing at Adam’s story about calculous class. Valerie knows I’m not like that.”

“Can you at least try to take this seriously?”

“You’re doing fine,” he said, tilting his chair back and resting his feet on the table. “You’ve got this. You’re the brains of the outfit. I’m just the pretty face to draw in the crowd.”

“If we win, you’ll be vice president,” she reminded him. “You’ll need to participate too.”

“I know, I know. I’ll have to spend my after-school time going to boring meetings to pick formal themes and what-not.”

“First of all, it’s not just about formal themes. Second of all, I need you to at least look invested if we even want a chance at winning.” She leaned in and spoke quietly so as not to be overheard. “You know I need your help to win favor with our classmates.”

“Using your personal arm candy to play the popularity game, you mean?” Clopin flashed a devilish smirk. “Carrots, you shrewd manipulator of the masses.”

Noelle’s eyes turned cold and she turned away from him. What the hell was his problem? He knew she wasn’t proud of that.

He must have sensed her change in mood, because he took his feet off the table and put a gentle hand on her back. “Look, you’re doing better with our classmates than you think,” he said, his jovial tone turned reassuring. “I heard you talking to Val. You’ve definitely got her vote and I’d wager she’ll tell the Pride Club to vote for you too. In fact, you probably had it anyway. I mean, look at Brice over there.”

She turned her attention to the campaign table across the cafeteria. There, Brice sat, flashing his dazzling smile and obviously flirting with a few first-year girls.

“You’ve think he’s talking about diversity inclusion over there?” Clopin went on. “You’ve got more people in your corner than you think.”

Noelle looked back at Clopin. He did always know just what to say. He may not be as invested in the election as she was, but he was invested in her and she fortunate to have that. As she was about to thank him, Faye came over with a clipboard in her hands.

“So, I’ve been going around, gauging opinions,” Faye began, “and while most people agree you have more experience on the student council…”

“Yes?”

“That feel Brice would be better at planning student events,” Faye finished, her cringe/smile showing her thoughts on the matter.

“Events?” Noelle deadpanned.

“You know, like formal and stuff?”

“Formal? Is that all anyone cares about?”

Faye chewed her bottom lip. “It is an area that leans in Brice’s favor, yes.”

“Well, you can see why they’d think that,” Clopin put in, “given the parties he throws.”

“There’s more to planning formal than throwing out a few cases of beer and blasting the stereo,” Nolle argued. “There’s finding a venue, booking the music, organizing a decorating committee… all while managing the budget. Don’t people realize that.”

Faye and Clopin exchanged a look. “Well, the prevailing thought is that you’re a bit too…” Faye paused while searched for the right words, “serious to plan a fun event.”

“So, people are leaning toward Brice because they think he’s more fun?” she asked in disbelief. Was this seriously all the people wanted? “Where are people getting the idea that I can’t be fun?”

Her cousin and her boyfriend exchanged another look. Why did they keep doing that? “Well, that campaign you started last year against the plans to have formal on a river boat last year might have something to do with it,” Clopin ventured.

“But that would have been a disaster!” Noelle retorted. “You have to account for safety hazards like seasickness, on-board fires, the likelihood of a kid sneaking in booze and drunkenly falling overboard… Plus, being on a boat prevents anyone from leaving if they get sick, or bored, or the music sucks. Oh, and the research I did on maritime disasters would have turned your stomach. And, by the way, the company they were considering failed their safety inspection just three months later. The school could be facing a massive lawsuit right now if it weren’t for me. So, you’re welcome.”

“As riveting as health and safety lectures are,” Clopin said after exchanging yet another look with Faye, “this may be the sort of thing that makes Brice seem more fun than you.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow. “So, in the name of fun, I should disregard our fellow students’ well being?”

“No, you’ve just got to work on your pitch a little,” Faye suggested. “Make your more sensible plans seem exciting.”

Noelle tapped her fingers on the table as she thought. They did have a point. She was under no delusions that she some sort of fountain of charisma. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to soften her image a little. “The speeches are a week away. Maybe I can find a way to put a more appealing spin on my ideas by then.”

“There you go!” Clopin said with a grin. “Put a little razzle-dazzle into your presentation.”

“Like a sequin leotard?” Noelle smirked.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Clopin returned. “Why don’t you come over after school? We can see if we can spruce up your speech a little.”

“I could use the practice,” Noelle agreed. “Faye, you want to help?”

“I wish I could,” Faye said with an apologetic tone, “but I’ve got swim practice after school.”

“Alright, just you and me then,” Noelle said, smiling at Clopin. “I guess I could use the help.”

[-]

“…which brings me to my next point about career building opportunities for students. The purpose of higher education is to prepare students for the workforce, yet studies indicate that graduating students often feel unprepared for the transition. For example, a recent paper published in…”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Clopin groaned, waving his hands. “Your approach is all wrong.”

“What?” Noelle asked. She lowered her paper. Her ice blue eyes pierced. “I’m citing a source that was published in a credible academic journal last year and it backs up the findings of several other studies.”

“It’s not about your sources,” Clopin explained as he hopped up from his spot on the bed. “You’re approaching this like a research paper. This is supposed to be persuasive.”

“I got top marks in my persuasive writing class,” she retorted, though he could tell even she thought this was a weak argument.

“I’m sure you did,” he laughed, “but this is a speech. It needs to be engaging. Your audience isn’t going to hear your points if they’re asleep.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re saying I’m boring?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Her face hardened and it only served to make him laugh more. Through his laughter, he brought a tiny little smirk to Noelle’s lips. There it was, exactly what he was looking for. After all, was he not here to get her to liven things up?

“Clopin…” Noelle groaned, though that tiny smirk on her lip was growing.

“You need to make sure your points connect to your audience,” he said, finally deciding to give her some real advice. “Tap into their emotions.”

Her face twisted as nerves took hold. A yes, her Achille’s heel: talking about her feelings. He knew she could do that well enough with a trusted few, but not with anyone she wasn’t especially close to, and certainly not with the entire student body watching. “How do I do that?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Mmm, hmmm. That seemed about right. He knew from the beginning this would be a hard sell. “Think about what you plan to do as president, why it’s important to you, and why it’s important to other people.” He could see the wheels in her head turning. This was good. At least she was considering it. He went on. “Like, the career building workshops, for example. Why’s that important?”

“Well,” she began, sinking down onto the bed. “we graduate next year. We’re going to have a big choice to make. Some of us will go on to university, but some of us may go straight into the workforce, or perhaps they’ll do something else. We need to be prepared, to know what’s out there.”

“That’s good. What’s the feeling behind that?”

“Nerves, perhaps… Excitement….” She twisted her speech paper in her hands. “Maybe a little fear…”

“And, you think our classmates feel the same way?” He sat down on the bed next to her and put a hand on her back.

“Yeah…” She went quiet and tapped her fingers on her knee as she thought. “So, you think I should say that in my speech?”

“Exactly!”

“You mean I should go up in front of everyone and tell them I’m…” She crossed her arms and closed in on herself. “Scared?”

He moved his hand in soothing circles and her tensioned eased a bit. He knew this would be the hardest part for her. “Maybe not exactly like that, but you should let them know you understand how they feel because you feel it too. Remind them you’re a student just like them and that you have ideas that can help.”

Noelle smiled and warmth returned to her face. She reached for Clopin’s hand and leaned toward him. “See, this is why I need you.”

“Like I said, you’re the brains.” He leaned in to meet her. “I’m just the pretty face.”

[-]

The day of the speeches came. The students gathered in the school auditorium to hear the candidates present their ideas for the next year. As the students filed in, the candidates waiting in the wings.

Brice stood off in one corner with his friend, and pick for vice president, Jules. Every now and then, a suppressed snicker sounded from their corner and Noelle’s eyes darted toward them every time. They were trying to get under her skin. It was an obvious tactic, and juvenile at then, but Clopin could tell it was beginning to affect her.

“You feeling okay?” he asked.

Noelle’s eyes slid in her opponent’s direction. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

“Who cares?” Clopin flicked his hand, as if waving off a buzzing fly. “Those two don’t want for stimulating conversation.”

Noelle nodded. “I think it’s about me,” she said, and she had a right to speculate. After all, this whole thing got started after she walked in on them trashing her, and that was before they began competing against each other. Who’s to say they weren’t doing it again?

Still, he couldn’t let her fall for Brice’s stupid games. Clopin put a hand on her shoulder. “Even if he is, you can’t let it rattle you. That’s exactly what he wants.”

Another burst of laughter erupted from Brice’s corner.

“They’re baiting me.”

“So don’t bite.”

At that moment, Brice and Jules approached them. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the challenging race you put up against me,” Brice said, sticking out his hand. His smirk accentuated his smug attitude. “Who knows, when I’m president, I may appoint you to my counsel.”

“You remember I was running first, don’t you?” Noelle replied, looking coldly at the outstretched hand. “And the race isn’t over yet.”

“No, not officially but come on.” Brice eyebrow waggle alone was enough to stir some anger, but she managed to keep in it check.

“You don’t think too highly of our classmates, do you?” Clopin remarked. For all his advice to Noelle, Brice was starting to get under his skin as well.

Noelle spared one more icy glance and Brice’s hand before accepting the hand shake. “I congratulate you on your campaign too,” she said, in her more cordial voice, “but I see no reason why I should concede before the votes are even cast.”

“Oh sure, it’s not over yet, but come on,” Brice retorted.

_He sure seems to like ending sentences with that phrase, doesn’t he? _Clopin thought, smirking to himself.

“I have a speech to rehearse,” Noelle said, and with that, she turned and walked away.

Clopin smiled, feeling a bit of pride. His warm feelings were short lived, however. They were almost immediately jarred by Brice throwing his arm around Clopin’s shoulder.

“Listen, Clo,” Brice began. Why was it always the most insufferable who insisted on giving you nicknames? “I want to talk to you. I know you don’t really want to be on student council, right? It’s not your usual thing.”

“It’s not your usual thing, either,” Clopin shot back.

“Yeah, but it’s not much of a stretch.” Brice’s tone had all the charm and sweetness of a piece of candy squashed on the bottom of someone’s shoe. “I already throw the best parties and lead the football team to victory.”

“And you’re so humble, too,” Clopin deadpanned.

“The point is, I’m a winner. People like me, and let’s face it, your girlfriend…”

“You don’t even know her,” Clopin snapped, twisting out from under Brice’s arm.

Brice sighed, as if he had any right to be frustrated. “I know you two go way back and everything, but you and I both know she’s not winning any popularity contests, and that’s exactly what this is. You don’t want to see your girl get hurt, do you? I mean, when the votes come in and she sees how few people actually voted for her… It’d really be for the best if she dropped out now.”

Clopin couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. _Oh Bricey-boy, is that all you got? _“Sounds to me like you’re scared.”

“Scared?” Brice sputtered. “Scared of what?”

“Don’t worry, my friend.” Clopin grinned and patted Brice’s shoulder. “I’m sure a ‘winner’ like you can take one loss in his record.” He flashed one more devilish smirk and began to walk away.

“I thought if anyone could talk some sense into that bitch it’d be you.”

Clopin stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels. “You want to say that again?” Brice’s satisfied grin told him this was exactly the type of reaction he wanted.

“I know she’s your beard and everything…”

“My what?” he snapped, rage simmering just below the surface.

“Oh, come on,” Brice tried putting a chummy arm around Clopin’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off. “I’m not judging. I don’t care if you’re gay, but everyone knows this whole ‘bisexuality’ thing is just a cover.”

For once, Clopin had no words. His hands shook as they balled into fists. Fury shot through his veins like lightening and he needed to release it somewhere. Brice’s smug face looked like the perfect target. His hand began to rise, but was stopped by Noelle wrapping her arms around his.

“Come with me,” she said, tugging on his elbow. “I need you.”

He looked over at her. Her eyes conveyed genuine urgency. He gave her a nod, then turned his glare back at Brice as he walked away.

“What do you want?” he asked, once they were on the other side of the room.

“Nothing,” she said. “What was going on over there?”

“Just Brice shooting his mouth off,” he spat. “What else is new?”

Her eyes suddenly turned to ice. “What did he say?”

“Nothing I hadn’t heard before.” He cast a sidelong glare in Brice’s direction. “You told Val you’d work with the Pride Club, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“When we win, I want to help with that.”

Noelle’s eyes burned like frost bite. “What did he say to you?” she asked, gripping his shoulders.

“I’ll tell you after school,” he said. He could vent later. Let her kick Brice’s ass in the election first. “Point is, I don’t want the Brices of the world to get what they want.”

A wicked smirk came to her lips and it brought one to his. “Well, we’ll just have to win, then.”

A teacher popped her head backstage and told the candidates to take their places. They went out onto the stage and sat down in their designated seats, Clopin & Noelle on one side and Brice & Jules on the other. As a teacher introduced the candidates, Clopin’s glare slipped to Brice. The damn idiot still looked smug. And why shouldn’t he be? Brice did have an annoying habit of getting what he wants.

CLopin then turned to Noelle. She kept her gaze straight ahead, watching the crowd. There was a fire in her eyes as vibrant as the red in her hair. She looked confident, determined, and certain on her chances of winning. He allowed himself a smile. She had to win. She had to. At least she would try to speak for the students and listen to what they had to say. Sure, it was just a silly school election. Maybe it wouldn’t matter in 10 years, or even to. But to the students here and now, it did matter.

Brice got up to speak first. Clopin tried to look attentive, but his eyes kept falling on Noelle. He looked for her reactions. Brice completely avoided talking about the responsibilities of the job, and Clopin was sure she noticed. In fact, Brice managed to use a lot of words without saying anything at all. Maybe he really was cut out for politics.

When he finished, Noelle clapped politely with her classmates. If she was just as unimpressed with Brice’s speech as he was, it didn’t show. She remained composed and professional until it was her turn to speak.

The teacher announced her name. Clopin gave her an encouraging smile. She smiled back, then stepped up to the podium.

“My fellow students you know me. I’ve served of the student council my first year. In that time, I have striven to speak for the students. In my time, I’ve learned that the most important pert of representing the student body isn’t doing what makes me the most popular. It’s doing what’s in everyone’s best interest.

If elected president, there are two major things I hope to accomplish. I want to help our students prepare for their future, and I want to help each student feel welcome at our school.

As lycée students, it is common to feel pressure to have your future decided already. I know because I feel it too. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Soon, we’ll be leaving the safety of the school and move out to the real world. I want to help my fellow students feel as prepared as possible. I will propose holding workshops after school to help the students prepare for adulthood. These workshops wouldn’t simply cover topics such as choosing a University or a career, although that would be included. I also want to hold workshops which cover more practical life skills such as the job seeking process, budgeting a household, and the like. While we will all still feel some worry over the future, it is my hope that these workshops can ease some of the pressure.

But while these programs are important, I will also focus on some more fun aspects of student life. I know a lot of you are looking forward to school events, like formals, and I want them to be an enjoyable time for everyone. I want to provide an inclusive environment which makes all students feel welcome. We’re all students here, we all work hard, and we all deserve to have some fun. I want to work with students from various backgrounds to put together these events and work with diversity groups, such as the Pride Club, to ensure our school events will be as fun as possible for everyone.

If elected, my priority as president would be to listen to the students and make their voices heard. I know we can make our school experience as fulfilling that's possible if we work together. And I look forward to working with all of you. Thank you.”

She stepped down from the podium as the students clapped for her. Clopin may have been biased, but he could have sworn this applause was much more enthusiastic. She took her seat next to him and he flashed her a smile. Sure, he’d heard the speech plenty of times when she practiced it for him. Hell, he helped her write the damn thing. But it was one thing for her to speak to an audience of just him and sometimes Faye. It was quite another to get up in front of her classmates.

The teacher got up on the podium and gave out the voting instructions. He wasn’t paying any particular attention. Noelle had noticed his smile and returned it with a look of gratitude. The love in her eyes showed clear as crystal and he tried to beam his love for her out of his own. The whole school may be watching their pseudo-telepathic exchange, but so what? They should know by now that he would shout his love from the rooftops (and had from some balconies after a few drinks at parties).

Whatever the outcome of this election, he could at least honestly say he was proud to be at her side.

[-]

The next day, they waited in those same wings, huddled in those same corners, exchanging glares with those same opponents. “I’ll kill him,” Noelle said, her eyes piercing daggers in Brice’s direction.”

“As entertaining as that’d be,” Clopin replied with a smirk, “it may prove detrimental to your campaign goals.”

“Still, how could he…” she let out a frustrated grunt. “I mean, what kind of person thinks that’s okay to say to another person.”

“I believe they’re commonly referred to as ‘assholes.’ Of course, there are other choice words that apply. There’s a wide variety available through the power of language.”

“Why aren’t you angrier about this?”

“I was. Now I’m basking in your fury.”

Admittedly, when he told her the day before, he’d been much more emotional. These things had a way of picking at old wounds. But that was behind closed doors in the safety of Noelle’s arms. She’d kept her temper in check then in order to comfort him. Now, triggered by Brice’s presence, it flourished.

“Normally, I’d be happy to hold your books while you pummeled him into a somewhat-Brice-resembling smear on the ground, but now is not the time.”

“Why do you suddenly care more about this election than me?”

“Because,” Clopin said with a smirk, “I want to see that entitled jerk’s world view shatter. If you get suspended before the results are announced, that can’t happen.”

Noelle returned his smirk. Oh yeah, he wasn’t entirely sure they’d win, but revenge of that sort would be sweet. Plus, he was starting to like the idea of being a power couple.

Their teacher called them up to take their seats. They walked out and sat in the same seats as the day before. The principal said a few words thanking the students for their participation in the democratic process or whatever, then announced the winners of the minor offices. As these proceedings went on, Clopin glanced over at Brice again. He looked so confident, it was infuriating. If he actually won, Clopin wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from leaping across the stage at Brice.

Noelle grabbed his hand and squeezed. He looked over. Her eyes remained on the principal, listening intently, but Clopin could see a hint of nerves. To be honest, he felt it too. He squeezed back and stroked him thumb along her knuckle. Whatever happened, no one could say they didn’t make a good team.

“And finally, next year’s student body president and vice president and vice president will be…” The principal paused for dramatic effect and Clopin held his breath. “Noelle Janvier and Clopin Trouillefou.”

They squeezed each other’s hands as their names were announced. The ball of nerves in Clopin’s stomach exploded into elation. He looked over at Brice. That cocky grin dropped and he looked like the principal just announced all classes would now be taught by lobsters. Guess that poor winner’s brain hadn’t caught up to reality yet.

They got up and the two pairs of running mates met in the middle to shake hands. Jules offered Clopin a somewhat congratulatory smile as they shook, but his eyes were clearly still on Brice.

Brice simply sputtered something like “congratulations” to Noelle as he looked at her like she had three heads.

“No hard feelings,” she answered, her grin conveying just the slightest hint of petty glee.

Clopin couldn’t help but feel proud. Oh yes, he was definitely going to like being one half of a power couple.


	5. The One Where They Build Ikea Firniture

**TheUnrulyGamer:** Your stories are so sappy :P

**Whethergarden:** Shut up! They’re cute!

**Animelemon:** I don’t buy it. No way you guys are happy all the time!

**Scurvyship:** Don’t you ever fight?

“Do we ever fight?” Clopin read, cocking an eyebrow. “We’ve been together how long? Of course we fight.”

“Every couple disagrees sometimes,” Noelle explained. “I know it’s cliché, but the important thing is communication.”

“And to not let ugly words come out in anger,” Clopin added.

**Scurvyship:** Fine, then tell us about a fight.

“Ugh, guys…” Clopin groaned, running a hand down his face. He then peaked over at Noelle. “Do you want to?”

She shrugged. “It’s alright with me, as long as we keep it light. Like, maybe that one about the entertainment center? When we first moved in together? Remember?”

“Ah, that one,” he said with a smirk. How could he forget?

[-]

Clopin looked at the piles of cheap fake wood strewn about the floor. Yes, it was all coming together. Soon, his beloved movie collection could come out of their dusty boxes and the tv could get off the makeshift stand comprised of old textbooks. He just had to build the entertainment center first.

The door opened and he looked up to see Noelle arriving home from class. “Oh, Goku,” she remarked, referring to the character on his t shirt. “Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“It’s Vegeta, actually. I’ll need all his strength toady.

Her eyes scanned the mess he’d already started on the floor. “Well, looks like you’ve made a lot of progress.”

“It’ll get put together soon. I’m still visualizing.”

Noelle rolled her eyes and looked in the box the wood came in. “I found the instructions,” she said, pulling out a few sheets of paper.

She tried to hand it to him, but he set it aside without a glance. “Yes, yes, the suggestion pamphlet. I saw that earlier.

“You’re not even going to read it?” She sounded as flabbergasted as if he just told her he was going to go live in the ocean to make friends with the sharks.

He shook his head with a hint of pride. “I’ve got the picture. I can figure it out from there.”

“You sure?” she asked looking at the illustration on the manual. “It looks complicated.”

“That’s the challenge,” he agreed with a cheeky grin. “It’s like a giant puzzle. You like puzzles, don’t you?”

Noelle blinked, unamused. “Our tv’s going to go on this thing, you know.”

“I know.”

“So I’d like it not to collapse.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Love, it’s not going to collapse.”

Noelle clutched the instructions and eyed him and the wood suspiciously, as if accusing them of shenanigans.

“Look, if you don’t trust me, why don’t you stay and supervise?”

Her skeptical look eased slightly. “I guess…”

“There, you see?” He said, getting up. He then took her by the shoulders, left a quick peck on her lips, and lead her to the couch. “You sit right here, love and watch me work my magic.”

[-]

An hour or two later, he hadn’t made much progress. He’d lost track of how many times he took it apart and put it back together. He put things on backward or crooked or mismatched. At one point, he almost got the whole thing together before he could no longer ignore the obvious tilting.

Noelle sat on the couch behind him, watching, occasionally glaring. He could tell she was about ready to rip the tools out of his hands. “You’re going to strip the screws,” she said, watching him take a screw out again.

“The screws are fine.”

“If you keep taking it apart-”

“I said, the screws are fine,” he snapped.

Noelle let out a groan and ran a hand down her face. “I don’t know why you can’t just follow the directions.”

“I’m doing fine,” he grumbled. When he turned the screw, it made an ugly scraping sound. _That’s probably not good. _

Noelle rolled her eyes and tried to shove the pamphlet in his face again. “If you’d just read the instructions, you’d have it together by now.”

“I’ll get it together,” he shouted, jumping up and ripping the instructions out of her hands. “It just takes time.”

“How much time? Should I move back in with my parents until it’s finished, or…”

He felt a vague pang of fear in his heart. “Don’t joke about that.”

“Look who doesn’t like jokes all of a sudden.,” she scoffed, crossing her arms.

“You know, I’d have this together by now if you weren’t distracting me.”

“I’m distracting you?” she retorted. “You told me to supervise.”

“Well, I knew you’d nag me anyway, so I thought you might as well,” he tossed out, without a second thought. But as soon as the words hit her ears, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“I’m nagging you?” She was fuming now.

Still, he dug his heels in. “Yes.”

“Why? Because I want you to actually look at the instructions?” she sneered. “This is so stupid.”

Another vague fear jolted in his heart. “You think I’m stupid?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. That is not what I said.”

“I know what I’m doing, alright?” he snapped. “I don’t need your help, and, in fact, I’d be doing a lot better if I didn’t have you breathing down my neck.” As soon as they left his lips, he knew he’d regret those words and as he watched her face break, he wished he could swallow them again.

Her lips twisted into a smirk he recognized and it hurt him to see. She only wore this smirk to cover her pain. “Well, fine.” She brushed past him and grabbed her backpack.

“Where are you going?”

“The library,” she said, opening the door and walking out. “I can’t deal with this anymore.” She slammed the door behind her and, with a resounding thud, she was gone, leaving Clopin in a noticeably quieter room.

[-]

_It’s not on backward, _he told himself as he stared at the half-finished project, but his eyes knew he was lying. He’d been at this for hours now. He blocked out all distractions. Nothing and no one was going to keep him from finishing this giant hunk of plastic wood. It was just him, the furniture parts, and a stray cat who decided to perch in the window.

_It’s judging me,_ he thought as the smug cat licked its paws. “This is harder than it looks, you know,” he snapped. The cat didn’t respond.

Whatever. He’d be done soon. He just had a few more parts left and…

_Left. She left. _

Well, so? She’ll be back and he’d have the entertainment center finished by then.

_Maybe. _

He just had to keep at it.

_Maybe she’ll be back. _

Nah, that was ridiculous. She was just at the library. Of course she’d be back.

_She never walked out like that before. _

No, she did, after they had a fight in high school or university. She was just getting space, then she’d be back and they’d make up like they always did. After all, she had to come back. This was her home now.

_Exactly, this is her home. _

Um…

_This is her home and she walked out. _

No, this is silly. She’s just studying at the library. She’ll probably come right back when she’s done.

_Probably, but you can’t be sure. _

Of course she will. Where else would she go?

_Home to her parents, like she said. _

That was a joke.

_Maybe. _

All this worrying was ridiculous. It was just a stupid, little fight. She’ll be back. He’ll finish this thing. They’ll make up and move on with their lives. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

[-]

He was still on the floor, surrounded by furniture parts, when he heard someone rummaging in the bedroom. He got up to see what it was. When he looked in the doorway, he could see Noelle moving around. Odd, he didn’t notice her come in. His heart sank, however, when he saw her packing a suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she answered, her voice as cold as stone. She folded another shirt and put it in the suitcase.

“Well, where are you going?”

“Back to my parent’s house, like I said.

A dreadful feeling washed over him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” she said, continuing her packing. She wouldn’t even look at him. “I’ve been thinking and… why should I tie myself down to someone like you? I mean, I just started at INP. I have much more in common with the guys in my program. I should be with someone who’s more on my level.”

Panic started to set in. “You can’t be serious. You never cared about-”

“Clopin, be serious.” She looked up at him now. Her eyes were like ice, so cold and impersonal, he didn’t recognize them. But on her lips, a mocking smirk. Why would someone like me want to be with some wannabe film director? I mean, what if that never happens for you? What are you gonna do? Make your little videos for the rest of your life?”

He couldn’t believe this. His heart shattered into a million pieces and she stomped on them and ground them into the carpet. He couldn’t’ understand it. Who was this? Why was she doing this to him? Why was she being so cruel?

“You always believed in me,” he pleaded, grabbing her arm. “Why are you saying this?”

She shook him off like we were nothing. “We were kids. It’s time you grow up and get it together.” She slammed her suitcase closed and walked out without another word.

What was left of his heart exploded with panic. “Wait!” he called, chasing after her, but she was already gone.

“Well, what did you expect?” a voice behind him said. He turned around but all he saw was the cat in the windowsill. “You didn’t honestly think she’d stay with you forever, did you?”

“Well, why not?” he argued. What did this stupid cat know about it?”

“Please, she got into a program that only takes 60 students a year. She’s going to have a very prestigious career one day. And what do you do?” The cat curled down on the sill, letting its tail hang over the edge. Somehow, it smirked. “Make your analysis videos? Film weddings on the weekends? Maybe get lucky enough to get a job on a real set once in a while? Write screenplays that will never see the light of day? Face it, your lives are going in completely different directions.”

“So we have different careers. Who cares?”

“Different careers, different interests, different personalities, different lives…” The cat crooned on. “What do you have in common again?”

“We love each other,” Clopin declared. At least, he still loved her. “And yeah, we’re different, but that’s what makes us such a great team.”

“If you say so.” The cat rolled lazily onto its back to bask in the sun and lick his paws.

“And why am I even wasting my time arguing with you? I need to go after her.”

He ran out onto the street. People passed him by, barely giving him a glance. But in the crowd, he spotted a head of long red hair. “Noelle!” he called, chasing after her, but she didn’t turn around. H continued forward, trying to catch up, but the longer he followed, the further she drifted away. Soon, she disappeared into the sea of people.

“Noelle,” he called again, though he could no longer see her. “Noelle, come back! Please just talk to me!”

“Pathetic,” one of the passerbys spat.

“Why would she come back to him?” Another said.

“He can’t even get furniture together.”

“How is he going to get his life together?”

The people closed around him. “Get it together, Clopin,” they said. “Get it together. Get it together.”

[-]

“Clopin?”

A hand shook his shoulder and Clopin jerked awake. He looked around and found himself surrounded by tools and partially built furniture pieces. Noelle knelt in front of him, a soft smile on her face.

“You hungry?” she asked. “I brought dinner.”

_Oh right, a dream. That explains the talking cat_. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I just want this to work,” he grumbled, running a hand down his face.

“What, the furniture?”

“No, not that. Us.” He laid a hand on hers. She didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to be one of those couples who moves in together and finds out they can’t stand each other.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Aren’t you?’

She went quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then a small smile tugged on her lips. “Honestly, no. I mean, how long have we known each other? Sure, we’ve never lived together before and that’s going to come with a whole new set of challenges, but I can’t imagine they could be anything that would bring us down. And it’s especially not going to be those bastards at Ikea.”

A smile appeared on his face to match hers and he let out a small laugh. “And it doesn’t bother you that my career is so different from yours? I mean, you’re in class all day with all those smart guys…”

“And you don’t think I come home to a smart guy?” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Clopin, sometimes I’ll watch you film your analysis videos and you’re explaining things about everything that goes into visual storytelling. And I’m understanding, and I’m engaged, and I’m learning… I’ll just stop and think, ‘wow, that’s the kid I grew up with. That’s the man I love. And he knows his shit.’”

His smile grew into a grin as fireworks went off in his chest. After all this time, how did she still make him feel like the luckiest man in the world? “You sure? Because I’m feeling really stupid right now. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

She shifted her hand so that their fingers interlocked. “I’m sorry I stormed out like that.”

“Did you at least get any studying done?”

“No,” she sighed. “I couldn’t concentrate. I kept thinking about you here, buried under piles of fake wood.”

“It’s funny,” he said, glancing at the half-finished mess he made. “I couldn’t concentrate either. Let’s not fight over dumb stuff anymore, okay?”

“Agreed.” She left a kiss on his lips and the last little bit of tension in his heart melted away.

“So, you said you brought dinner?”

“Yeah, let’s eat before it gets cold.” She grabbed both his hands and pulled him up. “Then after, maybe we can figure out how to put this thing together.”

“Good idea, but…” He reached down and grabbed the instruction manual. “Let’s have a look at this first.”


End file.
